


The Important Thing

by Scientia_Fantasia



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Trans Enjolras, but barely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-05-30
Packaged: 2017-12-13 11:22:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 766
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scientia_Fantasia/pseuds/Scientia_Fantasia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>In a modern setting jsyk</p>
    </blockquote>





	The Important Thing

**Author's Note:**

> In a modern setting jsyk

Enjolras tangled his hands in Grantaire’s hair, shifting on the bed to press closer to him, Grantaire’s fingers toying with the hem of the other’s shirt—before wandering lower, sliding under the waistline of Enjolras’s pants and pulling down.

“Mmn,” Enjolras went, pulling away from their kiss. “No.”

“Aww, come on—“

Enjolras grabbed Grantaire’s wrist and pulled his hand up, looking him in the eye.

“Grantaire,” he said, “no.”

The brunet stared at him for a moment, looking almost frightened, before relaxing and turning his hands up in surrender.

“Okay, okay,” he said, as Enjolras let go of his wrist, “My bad.”

Grantaire instead placed his hands on Enjolras’s waist tentatively, and when the blond leaned in to kiss him again, he tightened his grip, smiling slightly into the kiss.

Enjolras pushed at his shoulders slightly, leaning in, and Grantaire obediently fell backwards onto the bed, watching as Enjolras situated himself on top of the other’s hips to take his time looking Grantaire over, wondering why the brunet was so self-conscious about his looks. He might skip out of haircuts a little more than he should, but in Enjolras’s opinion, he was two parts of tall, dark, and handsome. And Enjolras had never really liked tall guys.

The blonde leaned down and kissed him again, first on his lips then trailing down his stubbled jaw, biting at his neck and smiling at the quiet keening noises Grantaire let out.

He slid his thumbs under the hemline of Grantaire’s shirt and pushed it upwards slightly, looking at Grantaire for permission—who put his arms above his head and grinned, so Enjolras pulled the shirt off and tossed it off the side of the bed.

The blonde glanced over him briefly; his stomach, his hair, the scars he had from scraps, the muscles he’d gotten from god knows where—not that Enjolras was particularly surprised. He just didn’t know much about Grantaire’s private life.

“I’m jealous,” he said, smiling and kissing the brunet again. But even as Grantaire laughed, Enjolras felt a slight ache in his chest. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. It wasn’t completely a joke…

Grantaire echoed his actions, tugging at the bottom of Enjolras’s shirt, and the blond flushed, staring determinedly at the bed sheets off to Grantaire’s side.

“…may I?”

Enjolras glanced at him briefly, then dropped his gaze, placing his hands over Grantaire’s. The brunet let go of the shirt immediately, and Enjolras smiled a moment.

“This is…” he started, eyes fixed on their hands. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, steeling himself, before looking up at Grantaire. “This is probably going to come as a shock to you, but don’t say anything stupid, okay?”

Grantaire blinked in surprise, but just nodded, for once keeping any comments to himself.

Enjolras let go of his hands and then reached up behind himself to pull his shirt off, tossing it the way of Grantaire’s.

Then he removed his sports bra in the same fashion, crossing his arms before looking back at Grantaire, heart pounding waiting for his reaction.

“Oh,” went Grantaire. “You’re a…”

He shook his head slightly, propping himself up on his elbows.

“You’re, uh,” he amended, “that kind of guy. Alright.”

Enjolras smiled slightly, and Grantaire sat up, putting his hands on Enjolras’s waist again and kissing him, the blond uncrossing his arms to put them over Grantaire’s shoulders.

“You’ll tell me if I say anything wrong, right?” the brunet asked, sitting back a bit.

“When do I not?”

“Yeah, I know. I just…I’ve never been with anyone…with…” he struggled for words for a moment before continuing, “your type of body. I don’t really know what to do.”

“You treat me like you would any other guy.”

Grantaire smiled, and put his hands on Enjolras’s shoulders to drag them down his torso, eyes following, until Enjolras set his forehead against Grantaire’s and he looked up to meet his eyes.

“Let’s not have sex tonight,” Enjolras said.

“Yeah. Alright.”

Enjolras smiled and kissed him again, before crawling off his lap and flopping down on the bed, folding his hands over his stomach.

Grantaire followed him, laying down next to him, and when Enjolras held his arm out, he scooted closer to lay his head on the blond’s shoulder and throw an arm over his waist.

Enjolras set his chin on Grantaire’s head and absently played with his curls.

“We’ll talk about this in the morning.”

“Over breakfast?”

“…can you cook?”

Grantaire scoffed, grinning.

“Of course I can cook!”

“Okay, then,” Enjolras said, settling himself next to Grantaire. “Over breakfast.”


End file.
